


Twenty-One

by Kantayra of Yore (Kantayra)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-10-04
Updated: 2003-10-29
Packaged: 2017-10-21 00:59:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/219162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra%20of%20Yore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irresistible lust toward a certain peroxide blond vampire overcomes Buffy in the week before her twenty-first birthday. So what choice does an ultra-horny Slayer have? Completely AU S6, shameless PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Annals (Or Is It ‘Anals’?) of a Horny Vampire Slayer

A gasp and a grunt sounded through the still night air that had settled over Sunnydale cemetery. A loud crash followed by a vehement exclamation, and the newly-risen vampire hit the tombstone hard, causing the cold marble to crumble. Instantly he was on his feet once more, feral eyes glowing yellow and razor-sharp fangs glinting the moonlight.

Almost immediately, his foe was upon him once more, a tiny wisp of a girl wearing the latest fashionable miniskirt and soft peach summer top. Brief incongruity set over the undead being that this small blonde’s blows could be so powerful. And then his vision was swimming again as a high-kick clipped him squarely across the jaw.

“You know, I hate to break it to you,” Buffy quipped, hitting the fledgling vamp with a quick left-right combo, “but you’re seeming a bit sluggish to me, even for a new-bee. And in this game, speed and strength are everything.” She caught his punch with a swift block. “See what I mean?” she said. “So, since survival of the fittest obviously isn’t your thing, why don’t we just—”

A shock seemed to jolt through her body at exactly that moment, and a soft green glow shone in Buffy’s eyes, sending a dizzy, heady feeling through her.

“Hey, Slayer,” clueless vamp asked anxiously, “you all right?”

Buffy blinked and looked at her enemy, a strange twisting feeling building deep in her gut. Her body suddenly seemed to be on fire, and an unbearable wetness was seeping into her panties. Abstractly she knew that on the ugliness scale, this vamp was off the charts, but then why did he look so impossibly appealing all of a sudden? “Uh…yeah,” she agreed shyly, instinctively reaching up to brush her hand back from her face, exposing the sweaty column of her throat for him in invitation.

“Good,” he breathed a sigh of relief…before tackling her to the dewy grass beneath them.

Somewhere deep inside, Buffy knew her life was at risk, that she was supposed to fight. It felt like her rational mind had been disconnected for the moment though, and she just didn’t care. All that mattered was the feel of the masculine body on top of her, the tantalizing aroma of male vampire musk… Her thighs spread wantonly beneath him, grinding her need up against him in begging offering.

A glint of triumph shone in the fledgling’s yellowed eyes, and he took in a deep, unnecessary breath to savor the moment…and a strange compulsion took over him, as well. Something about the Slayer’s sweet scent drove him wild, causing him to harden instantly above her. Of its own bidding, his vamp face retracted, leaving the pimply human features he’d sported before his death.

“Slayer…” His voice had turned to a husky whisper, and he nuzzled her throat gently, rubbing his hardness pointedly against her inner thigh.

“Yes…” Buffy breathed in response, hands reaching down to caress her impromptu lover, encouraging him. God, she felt like she was being burned alive waiting for him to enter her…

And then the vampire on top of her literally was burned alive. A bright white flash illuminated the cemetery for an instant, putting the shocked vampire’s features into startled relief for a second before he vanished in a poof of dust.

Buffy managed to let out a small whimper of despair as the hard body above hers vanished, forcing her mind to focus and track down the delicious sex that had been secretly promised her.

“Yay, it worked!” Willow cheered in delight, squeezing Tara’s hand as they approached where Buffy still lay spread-eagled on the ground.

“You were great,” Tara agreed with that shy, coy smile she reserved solely for her lover. “The way you held the sunlight together…” She brushed her shoulder against her girlfriend’s affectionately. “You were amazing.”

“You’re the amazing one,” Willow countered with a secretive little smile of her own. “Did you see it, Buffy? Our sun ball actually dusted that one! Probably because he was so young and all…but still!”

“Y-Yeah,” Buffy managed to mutter, rising to her feet despite the aching pain between her thighs. God, it was so hard to concentrate. The thought of a hard, cold cock pressing into her was almost overwhelming, and she had to fight back a whimper of loss that the vampire was no longer there to give it to her. God, she needed… She needed to get rid of these two so she could go hunting. “It was great,” she managed to force the words out, struggling to keep her mind on the task at hand. “But I bet you guys are tired after that. W-Why don’t you go home and let me handle the rest of the patrol?”

“Really?” Willow said excitedly. “’Cause, yeah, feeling a bit of the post-magic headache coming on…plus, I want to go over the spell again, see how to make it stronger again, and…”

Tara smiled as Willow continued to babble. “I think she means, are you sure you’ll be all right without us?” she clarified with a little giggle.

“I’m good,” Buffy insisted a bit too hastily, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. “I’m better than good. You guys go on ahead.”

“We’ll see you tomorrow at the Magic Box, then,” Willow agreed, following Tara’s lead on her hand and giving Buffy a little finger-wave as they wandered off.

The Slayer breathed a deep sigh of relief, intentionally breathing in the night air. It felt as though all her senses had suddenly been magnified a thousand-fold, the soft scents in the sea air teasing her with dozens of possibilities. God, she just needed something cold to quench this burning from within, something…

She froze as one alluring scent stood out to her above all others. This one reeked of power, strength, waiting virility… Breathing already heavy, she ran through the night, entire body focused to pinpoint accuracy on this one task. Her rational mind was still buried deep inside somewhere, and all that mattered was Buffy. Want. Fuck. Now.

With a feline’s slinking grace, she crept upon the small clearing, eyes dilating in lust at the sight of the mate she’d found herself. She licked her lips in eager anticipation of his physical prowess, watching the battle that took place before her with baited breath…

“Oh bugger!” Spike exclaimed in annoyance, frantically trying to wipe away the glob of pink slime that had landed squarely on the shoulder of his prize duster. “’ll have you know this coat’s older than you are, so try a li’l respect!”

The fuchsia blob didn’t respond beyond making a few gurgling noises and oozing its way back over towards him again. Spike was severely questioning whether this thing was even sentient.

Ducking a long, speckled tentacle, Spike did a quick somersault across the cemetery grass. He dodged yet another blow, weaving between the thing’s multitude of drooling limbs, rushing low across the ground, his mind focused entirely upon his goal. One spectacular leap and a roll, and he snatched up the battle-axe that had been knocked from his grip earlier, barely avoiding further damages to his precious duster.

“You touched the coat,” he informed the slime monster with a low growl. “That means you die. Brutally.”

Axe was promptly applied to slime demon in a vigorous and overly-enthusiastic manner. The giant pink blob gurgled a few times before dissolving into a sticky white puddle, and then with a little glow the puddle vanished as well.

“Huh,” Spike cocked his head curiously to one side, “who ever woulda thought that nasty bugger would clean up so nicely?” Hefting his axe fondly over his shoulder, he headed off for Shady Hill Cemetery, the immortal words of Sid Vicious on his lips…

And Buffy pounced.

Spike swore and flailed as he was tackled down to the ground by something _powerful_. He froze for an instant when he felt what he would have sworn was a hot tongue slip into his ear but then bucked violently, throwing his attacker off.

“Lookin’ for a good tussle then, mate?” he inquired, a delighted, wicked light in his eyes at the thrill of the fight. And then his jaw dropped when he saw the figure that had jumped him. “B-Buffy?” he exclaimed in wide-eyed disbelief.

In a slow, slinky motion, the Slayer rose to her feet, hips sashaying teasingly as she approached him once more. “Oh yeah, baby,” she purred in her most kitten-like voice, “I want a good, hot, _hard_ tussle…” She licked her lips.

Spike watched the tip of her little pink tongue escape her lips with something akin to fascination. God, this was so much like his wet dreams, it was scary… “I-I thought you were patrollin’ the west side tonight,” his mind spit out the first disjointed thought it came upon.

“Only fledglings over there,” she retorted, continuing her advance.

Spike took a step back in response, finding himself suddenly backed up against a stone crypt with nowhere to run. This felt strange, being hunted in such a manner, the glint in the Slayer’s eyes letting him know well enough that she thought he was good enough to eat. The irony of that thought wasn’t lost on him, but he didn’t care right now. Because the way she was moving, talking…it had him harder than hell.

“I needed a _real_ vampire,” she informed him in a husky whisper, hands on his chest now, running sensuously down the hard muscles she found there. She leaned in close, flicking her tongue into his ear once more. “I need an equal… You, Spike. I need you…” She slipped one leg around his lean hip then and thrusted her wetness right up against his aching erection. Oh, he was _much_ bigger than that fledgling she’d found earlier…

Spike inhaled with a startled gasp, breathing in the intoxicating scent of needy Slayer musk, and at that moment he was gone. With a feral growl, he slammed her up against the concrete wall beside him, pressing his body forcefully between her thighs.

She keened and wailed at the rock-hard cock that was now rubbing hard over her clit, albeit through the thick fabric of his jeans. Her hands ran excitedly over his body, fingers clutching at the black leather, nails scrapping across his scalp through short platinum spikes.

He knew something was wrong. He’d never been this out of control in all his life, and that odd green glow in Buffy’s eyes was a pretty good indicator, too. Even though he’d dreamed bending her over almost every flat object he’d encountered in the past two years, he knew this sudden unbearable lust was unnatural. But, god, he didn’t care. She felt molten in his arms, her heat suffusing his body as she wrapped herself around him.

With a warning growl, he lifted her up against the wall, guiding her legs around his waist. Her hot little fingers eagerly moved to his zipper, pulling it down slowly so that they could hear each jagged groan of the teeth as they slowly separated, leaving him to finally spring out into her waiting hand.

He pushed her grip aside roughly, forcing her hand back above her head and his other hand found the tiny little thong that stood as the only barrier between his aching cock and complete bliss. He ripped the fabric away violently, causing her to screech at the shock of pain.

“Hurt me good!” she gasped out.

He lost all semblance of conscious thought at that and rammed home, his massive girth stretching her tight inner walls with bruising intensity.

Buffy screamed out at the invasion, the sudden chill of his icy member within her opening her eyes wide with shock. Her slick passage throbbed and pulsed around him, trapping him deep within her as she slowly began to ride out her ecstasy.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, burying his face in the sweaty curve of her neck, as he thrust repeatedly and violently up into her willing body. God, she felt so hot – feverish almost – and he could feel her heat leaking into him, consuming him, making him a part of her. Her channel was so wet and tight, sticking to him with a tantalizing suction, creating the most delightful noises as he pumped himself deep within her, and coating his cock completely with her sweet juices.

“Christ, Buffy!” he managed to utter his first coherent words. “Fuck me…”

“Fuck you good,” she assured him, squeezing her internal muscles rhythmically around him. She began riding him harder at that, faster, relief beginning to flow through her body as his coolness evaporated into her, making his dick burn as it took in her heat.

“So good,” he gasped, holding her hips with bruising strength and slamming her down around him. It felt as though her heat was bringing his flesh back to life, filling it with her warmth and vitality, and, god, never had ever anything felt better in all his one-hundred-plus years of existence. “Come for me, luv,” he purred against her throat, finding the sweet spot within her with each stroke, “come for the Big Bad. Scream for me…”

“Spike!” she cried out, moving impossibly faster as she felt herself growing close. “So big, so bad… God, more!”

“More?” His eyes widened in belief. Already she was strangling his cock to its utmost limits, the vise of her internal muscles sending alternate jolts of pleasure and sweet, sweet pain through his aching balls.

“Need to…” Her body fell forward against him, collapsing against his strength, and her own head found its place against the alabaster curve of his throat. Suddenly, the sight of that flesh was too delicious to bear, and she sank her teeth in, crying out in wondrous release as she tasted the first tangy drops of his blood against her tongue.

She was biting him. The _Slayer_ was biting him! Fuck! Spike roared out his released into the night, shooting stream after stream of milky cum into her waiting womb. His jizz squirted out the same cool as his body temperature at first, but then the inhuman heat that had taken over her filled it, warming it until his seed was just as alive as she was.

Buffy felt the downright painful heat abate as it took hold of Spike’s sperm, and waves of relief shot through her that she was herself again. The sensation lasted only a second before the natural result of having eight thick inches of pulsing vampire pounding her g-spot took hold, and she came with a wild scream into the night of the cemetery, body clutching his desperately in convulsions of pleasure as the world seemed to shatter around her…

Cock spent, Spike’s knees finally gave way and he fell to the ground, Slayer still impaled firmly on his erection. Buffy felt the concrete of the crypt behind her grind into the skin of her back as she slid slowly to the ground with him, but she was too overcome by ecstasy to care about the pain.

Buffy sat limply in his lap for a minute, feeling a strange tingling sensation deep in her womb. For some reason, the sensation felt so extraordinarily _right_ that she couldn’t question the fact that she’d just had her wicked way with her former archenemy.

Spike seemed to return to his mind at that moment as well, and he slowly slid his rapidly softening cock out of her, one hand lightly fingering the bite on his neck, awe in his eyes. He gazed upon the woman before him – the Slayer, cheeks flushed with passion, skirt hiked up around her waist, and inner thighs dripping with their combined cum. The sight was so delicious he had to fight to refrain from taking her again right there.

“N-Not that ‘m complainin’,” he began in an uncharacteristically shaky voice, “but what brought _that_ on, pet?”

Buffy gulped, taking in the tender look on Spike’s face and venturing to glance at where his limp penis still dangled out from the front of his jeans. Inside her, she felt a welcome stir deep within her belly. What brought _that_ on, indeed…


	2. In Case You’re Wondering Why I Jumped You like a Rabid Wolverine in Heat Last Night…

With a deep, nervous breath, Buffy stepped into the Magic Box, setting the chimes on the door jingling.

“Welcome to the Magic Box, how may I take your mon—?” Anya’s bright voice paused when she saw who had just entered. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, sounding terribly disappointed. Then, she perked up again. “Would you like to buy something?” she suggested hopefully. “Perhaps in compensation of the fact that I had to spend my own money to buy you a birthday present?”

Buffy barely managed not to roll her eyes. “Not this time,” she said apologetically. “Is Giles here?”

Anya’s shoulders slumped once more, and she returned to the receipts she’d been recording. “He’s in the basement, cataloguing our latest shipment,” she said disinterestedly.

Buffy nodded her thanks and made her way slowly toward the basement door, every second becoming even more anxious about this conversation. She knew last night had been some sort of strange supernatural occurrence, but she couldn’t really go up to Giles and say, “Mystical forces made me screw Spike into the ground,” now could she? Her poor Watcher would probably have a heart attack. He’d already been traumatized enough by her and Spike’s brief magically-induced engagement two years ago.

But, really, she didn’t know what else to tell him. And she especially didn’t know what to say if and when Giles demanded whether the fuckfest last night had any precursors.

Because she really, _really_ didn’t want to have to inform her Watcher that she’d spent the last two years working at Spike’s side and taking ample notes about the tightness of his butt and the size of his hard-on and the fullness of his lower lip. And she _especially_ didn’t want to mention the night when she’d come to the Magic Box late only to find Spike, shirtless, working out in back with her punching bag. She’d watched in rapt, drooling fascination for ten minutes as his lean, hard muscles flowed beneath his ivory skin with liquid grace, stretching and flexing with the force of his blows and… And mentioning the five-hour session she’d had with her freezer-cooled vibrator back in her room afterwards was _completely_ out of the question.

And that was all aside from the time when he’d sat beside her on the back steps offering her comfort when her mother had gone into the hospital. And when he’d held her crying in his arms, whispering sweet nothings in his soft, rough accent, after Riley had finally taken off. And when he’d cared for her sister and mom, defending them against Glory, nearly getting himself tortured to death to protect Dawn. And when he patrolled at her side every night after Glory’s death, teasing her with soft innuendoes and favoring her with that sometimes shy smile of his, making her laugh when she was the most down.

So, yeah, she couldn’t exactly claim that it had never occurred to her before to rip off all Spike’s clothes and ride him like a prize stallion. But the fact that she might have to confess that to Giles… Okay, why were all Watchers stuffy British men again? Just to embarrass their Slayers as much as was physically possible?

“Anya, is that you?” Giles’ voice sounded from the basement.

She guessed she’d been standing there waiting nervously long enough for him to have noticed her. “It’s me,” she quickly clarified, steeling herself up and walking down the steps.

“Ah, good, Buffy,” Giles said distractedly, recording several notes in his ledger. “I wanted to talk to you about a Tlyri Demon that’s been seen in the area…”

“What’s the…thingy,” she said lamely, “demon look like?”

“Well, it’s approximately five feet tall, covered in pink slime with multiple tentacles, and—” Giles began to catalogue.

“It’s already dead,” Buffy cut him off. “Last night. Spike killed it.” Her cheeks flushed at the mere mention of that name and what had happened after Spike had killed the Bleary-or-whatever Demon.

“Oh,” Giles managed a quick smile, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling, “good. That’s all I had for you today, actually.”

Buffy gulped. The urge to flee from the Magic Box was nearly irresistible, but she held firm. “Uh, actually, I had something to report to you…” she began, looking desperately anywhere but at him.

Giles looked up curiously at her over the wire frames of his spectacles. “Did something happen last night?” he inquired, taking in her edgy demeanor with some concern.

“Uh…you might say that…” She folded her arms over her chest in a defensive posture and leaned back against the stair rail. “You see…” She blanked, took a deep gulp, and tried again. “Well, there was this vamp, and… You know how I usually try to kill them? Well, with this one I…” She mumbled something under her breath.

“Pardon?” Giles asked, confused.

“I, you know, kinda the opposite of killing?” she ventured, embarrassed.

“You saved his life?” Giles guessed.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “The thing Anya talks about all the time.”

“Money?”

“The _other_ thing,” she hissed.

Giles frowned, then his eyes widened. “Dear lord…”

“I didn’t _actually_ ,” Buffy quickly defended herself, deciding to leave the Spike-filled (and how very Spike-filled she had been…) part of the evening out of her account for now. “I just, you know… It was like I was possessed or something. Willow and Tara dusted the vamp, though.”

Giles sat there, removed his glasses, cleaned them, put them back on, said “Dear lord” again, and removed his glasses to clean them again.

“It was really creepy, Giles,” she shivered. “He was an ugly vamp, too.” Luckily, she’d gotten to choose the most gorgeous of all options for her final date of the night…

Giles shook off his startled surprise at that and managed to nod. “Yes, I can well imagine,” he agreed before pausing, his brow furrowed. “I had hoped this was just an old wives’ tale,” he finally added with a weary sigh.

“Old wife?” Buffy repeated from a squeak. “’Cause, hey, I’m only twenty, and there’s no _way_ I’m getting married yet…”

He managed to fix her with an irritated look. “It’s just an expression,” he assured her. “A myth, a legend. I had read the stories in the Watcher Diaries, of course, but I had thought this just another needlessly cruel exercise in control, much like the _Cruciamentum_ …”

“Giles, what are you talking about?” Buffy demanded, growing annoyed with his vague comments.

Giles sighed wearily. “The _Tempus Gignentis_ ,” he clarified.

Anya’s head was immediately at the top of the stairs. “Did you just say Buffy’s going through the _Tempus Gignentis_?” she demanded excitedly.

“ _Tempus Gigantis_?” Buffy repeated confusedly. Inwardly, she was blushing at how fitting the term was for Spike and his—

“‘ _Gignentis_ ’,” Giles corrected, “not ‘ _Gigantis_ ’. Roughly translated, it means the ‘time of breeding’.”

“It’s not very gigantic,” Anya informed her apologetically. “Unless you choose Spike as your mate… He’s rather large, isn’t he?” She cheered up visibly now that the conversation had focused one of her favorite topics. There just weren’t enough in-depth discussions about penises in this group for her tastes.

Giles blanched at the mental image.

“Breeding?” Buffy exclaimed at Giles’ pronouncement, eyes wide. Then, Anya’s statement registered. “And just how do you know how large Spike is?!” she demanded, green-eyed jealousy seeping into her blood.

“Don’t worry,” Anya assured her. “All my observations of Spike’s penis are based entirely upon the tight jeans he wears. Specifically when he wears them around you. Have the two of you decided yet when you’re going to stop the unresolved sexual tension and give yourselves the orgasms you both so desperately need?” She blinked at Buffy curiously, as if she’d just asked ‘how are you?’ and genuinely cared about the answer.

“U-Uh…” Buffy’s face had flushed a deep red now, and she was desperately looking anywhere but at Giles.

“Yes, thank you for leaping so enthusiastically over the line once more,” Giles rushed to Buffy’s defense, embarrassed himself. And not a little suspicious. He’d seen the way his Slayer and her vampire partner interacted, as well. On many occasions he’d felt quite the voyeur just watching them spar.

“You’re welcome,” Anya agreed brightly, missing the sarcasm completely. “I can provide more helpful tips on vampire penises if you’re—”

“No!” Buffy and Giles both managed to exclaim in perfect unison.

“Or not,” Anya sulked slightly. Why did they have to get all testy all of a sudden? They’d completely killed the conversation, and just when she’d really started to get going, too. It was clear they were both repressed and in desperate need of more sex. Only not with Xander. Xander was hers.

“Moving back on topic,” Giles broke the subsequent silence. He turned back to Buffy who was still looking confusedly back and forth between the two of them. “The _Tempus Gignentis_ is rumored to strike each Slayer upon her twenty-first birthday. See, the earliest Watcher Diaries hint that the Slayer was originally made from a vampire. Thus, when the Slayer reaches adulthood, she naturally seeks out a…m-mate,” he stuttered over the word, mortified at having to explain this, “that is compatible.”

Anya rolled her eyes at Giles’ description. “You get really horny for vamps, the pheromones you emit makes them horny for you, you have sex, your body heats up their seed, and presto! Demon-spawn infant,” she explained in terms any _reasonable_ person would’ve used in the first place.

Buffy nodded numbly. “You’re saying I’m turning into a vamp-ho?” she whimpered finally.

“You are not turning into a ‘vamp-ho’,” Giles assured her quickly. “It’s a temporary condition that should strike every two to five years, if the legends are true.”

“Demon-spawn?” Buffy was still stunned. Poor Buffy. This really all was a bit much for her. Unconsciously, her hand moved to cover her flat belly, the shocking realization that she might’ve just gotten knocked up by Spike overwhelming her.

Giles let out a weary sigh and sat down heavily. “There’s no way of actually knowing if that’s the case,” he insisted. “It was the traditional job of all Watchers to…er, _dispose_ of Slayers that had defiled themselves with demon mates as well as their progeny…”

Buffy’s eyes widened, and the hand on her stomach moved in a protective gesture.

“Oh, don’t be absurd,” Giles assured her, noticing the motion. “I have no inclination to undertake the Council’s more barbaric practices. On the off chance that you should actually produce an offspring, I could never kill it.”

“‘Off chance’?” Anya repeated incredulously. “Once the mating instinct overtakes her, she’ll keep seeking a vampire to have orgasms with until she finds one. She’ll then lure her vampire mate into a docile and erect state with the pheromones she emits and—”

“Enough!” Buffy and Giles were shouting out in surround sound once more.

“Buffy quite effectively put aside the mating drive last night,” Giles informed Anya primly, “which means she obviously need not give in to it.”

Buffy gulped. “Um…let’s just pretend there’s one little slip-up,” she began anxiously. “Does that mean…?”

“You need four slip-ups, sweetie,” Anya corrected with a patronizing pat to Buffy’s hand.

“Four?” Buffy really shouldn’t have to fight to stop herself from openly salivating at the thought.

“For proper mystical fertilization,” Anya said back, sounding as though she wanted to attach ‘duh’ to the end of it, like it was the most obvious thing in the universe.

Brief relief flooded her that, no, she wasn’t pregnant yet…well, not entirely, at least. And why did Slayers have to be some sort of fucked up beings where it technically was possible to be only ‘sort of pregnant’, anyway? Wasn’t her life already weird enough as it was?

“It is entirely a moot point, though,” Giles insisted. “Given her success at avoiding any…” his flushed, “ _contact_ last night—”

Buffy fidgeted uncomfortably, thumb still caressing her belly. “Uh…Giles?” she began nervously, cutting him off. “There’s something else that happened last night that I need to tell you about…”

* * *

Buffy landed on the tile floor with a click of her high-heeled boots. Her predators’ instincts kept her in a crouched position for a few seconds, checking for threats in a state of catlike readiness. A shifting swirl of footsteps beyond the glass water-filled tank to her left alerted her to the presence of another hunter in Sunnydale Aquarium, but when she turned to look, all she could see were half a dozen tropical fish staring at her curiously.

“Thought you were the Ichthius Demon for a second there,” Spike’s soft voice filled the eerie silence of the aquarium at midnight. Sheepishly, he stepped forward from the shadows, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Obviously, he was just as unsure about the events of the night before as she was. And their confused discussion after the main event to go home and get cleaned up hadn’t eased any of his worries. “’lo, Buffy,” he said in an almost shy voice, the blue light of the underground world making the cerulean in his eyes unnaturally vivid.

Buffy gulped. He was even more handsome than she’d remembered. _Bad mind_ , she scolded the dirty thoughts flitting through her head. _You’re here to explain why you’re having Spike’s baby, not to have kinky sex with him!_ Wait, something about that didn’t seem quite right… “Um, hi.” Her voice squeaked on the final syllable, and she blushed slightly at how nervous she was.

“You see the Watcher about…?” Impossibly, his cheeks flushed. “Y’know…”

She gulped. “Y-Yeah,” she agreed, “have you ever heard of…?” She trailed off as he leaned back against one of the round glass windows that provided a porthole view into the coral reef. The underwater window was just over eight feet wide, providing a striking background that clearly highlighted his lean form. Soft, blue waves in the water illuminated the sharp lines of his cheekbones and the wild platinum spikes of his hair, surrounding him with an ethereal beauty that left her speechless. Suddenly, she felt her belly growing uncomfortably warm and…

“Buffy?” Spike asked anxiously, noticing the abrupt change in her. “What’s—?”

A green light flashed in her eyes, and she took a seductive step towards him, a tiger stalking its prey.

Spike’s nostrils flared in response, and he caught the spicy scent of Slayer arousal. Instantly, he felt an overwhelming desire surge through his body. His cock sprang to life, grating painfully against the cold metal zipper of his jeans, just begging her to invite it to come out and play.

“Spike…” she said in a heady whisper, sauntering up to him and resting one tiny but powerful hand on the bulge where his jeans were about to burst.

“Buffy…” he agreed with an excited growl, eyes rolling back in his head as she gave his hardness a playful squeeze.

She slipped around behind him, settling herself in the curve of the circular window, head lolling back wantonly. “Touch me,” she pleaded.

He was upon her in an instant, sneaking his way cleverly between her thighs, hands bunched in the fabric of her shirt on each side of her chest until they ripped apart the fabric with one violent pull. The tattered remains of the garment fell aside, bearing her bare breasts as reward for his hungry mouth. He’d seen the pinpoint nipples through the cloth of her shirt, but now that her soft, golden flesh was actually before him, tinted a deeper brown by the soft blue waves that illuminated them, he couldn’t hold back a groan.

Buffy cried out in delight as his icy mouth descended upon one milky mound. Her fingers clutched his hair desperately, holding him to her, reveling in the cool he brought to her feverish flesh.

His own hand found her other breast, flicking the puckered bud there in a rapid staccato, moving each sensitive nerve center in perfect counterpoint. With his free left hand, he moved down between her legs. He smiled against her when he found yet another of those girly little skirts he loved so much. Another foolishly optimistic thong believed it could keep him out. This time, despite the blinding passion that blocked out his conscious mind, he managed to remember to store the scrap of crimson fabric in the back pocket of his jeans.

“Oh,” Buffy gasped out in pleasure, feeling the fires within her stoke to an aching burn, “inside me. Now. _Please_ , Spike…”

He grunted his approval into her chest, dropping his zipper in one swift tug, and forcing his way home on the next beat. Soft, liquid suction gripped him, trapping his vital chill deep within her. “Yesss…” he hissed hoarsely, collapsing against her slick, sweaty flesh as the pleasure of being one with her once more overcame him.

Buffy’s hands took the opportunity to roam over his back. She yanked his button-up open, sending several of the small white buttons zinging about the aquarium. They clattered across the hard tile floor, providing the only audio to the mating of the two powerful predators beside the gentle lap of the water and the slap of wet flesh moving together as Spike slowly thrust in and out of her.

Temporary mission accomplished, Buffy pulled his shirt down and off his arms, displaying his marbled chest for her eager perusal. Tender fingers flicked across the flat male nipples she found, and she marveled at the play of the silvery-blue waves of light as they reflected off his pale body, making him seem almost like some sensuous sea creature.

Apparently, Spike had the same thought looking down on her body. “My beautiful siren,” he whispered raggedly, beginning to move in and out of her in earnest.

Buffy moaned and sobbed in pleasure, feeling his icy stabs within her body as heavenly relief from the inferno within. Her eyes drifted down to the meeting of their hips, and she watched in amazement as the long wet length of him pulled out of her until only the bulbous head remained inside her, then vanished into her body once more. That she could take him in, fit him so snuggly inside her… Her body felt ablaze all over again.

“Come for me,” she whimpered against his lips, tasting the full richness of his bottom lip for the first time. Her tongue flicked out to wet it. “I need to feel you come inside me…”

His mouth captured hers in a hungry kiss at that, and his body began to move in a frantic, erratic rhythm. His tongue plunged deep within her mouth, mimicking the motions of his hips, and he realized without a doubt that he had finally tasted the sweetness of heaven.

His balls clenched, pushing him deeper and harder against the seat of pleasure within her, and his cries of ecstasy were drowned out by the union of their lips.

Buffy squeezed her eyes shut and held him tight as he spilled into her womb. His seed squirted out in short bursts this time, dragging his pleasure out over minutes. Each spurt cooled the irrational fire within her further, bringing another gasp of release, followed by brief languid bliss. For one instant Spike would have sworn her entire body started glowing a soft green, but perhaps it was just an effect of the aquarium light, and he certainly wasn’t in any state to analyze the phenomenon as waves of pleasure raked through his body. By the time he was finally done, she was groggy, barely conscious at the repeated orgasms that had racked her body.

“God, I love you…” he whimpered against her. Then, he collapsed on top of her, equally spent, and drifting off into unconsciousness one hand came to rest on the flat of her belly, as if some instinctual knowledge deep inside him felt instinctively what they’d begun to create together.

One final settling of naked, sweat-sheened limbs, and the Slayer and her Vampire felt into a deep dreamless sleep, each tangled intimately with the other’s body…


	3. Yes, Spike, My Subconscious Wants to Have Your Baby

Spike awoke several hours later, feeling the first tingles on the back of his neck that indicated that dawn was little more than an hour away. He realized confusedly that he had no idea where he was, or why, but a deeply contented sensation that seemed to seep down to the very marrow of his bones kept him from caring for the moment. Slowly, he became aware of the body beneath him, surrounding him, filling him with its warmth. A soft purr rumbled deep in his chest before he could stop himself, and he nuzzled his face between his lover’s bare breasts.

Buffy woke in a similar dazed and confused state, feeling a comforting weight on her chest and a not unpleasant ache between her thighs. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she groaned slightly at the kink in her neck, shifting her body slightly.

A murmured complaint sounded from Spike in response, and he blinked open bleary blue eyes to look at her. “Buffy-luv,” he whispered against her heated flesh.

Buffy’s cheeks burned in response. She remembered all too clearly his admission from the night before, and she found it extremely unlikely that it had been the effect of the Gigantic thing or the heat of passion that had made him utter those words. Especially given how he was snuggling up against her this morning. And, truth be told, she’d felt a greater degree of control last night as well, as if her biological drives had realized that her conscious mind wouldn’t object to bedding this vampire and so had let her in on the fun.

That didn’t mean she knew what to say to the vampire she’d secretly longed after for years the night after her intoxicating pheromones had driven them to rut like wild badgers for the second time in a row. “Um…hi,” she ventured with a nervous little finger-wave. “Can you maybe, uh…shift a bit? My neck’s kinda…yeah, tied in knots and…” She trailed off, mesmerized by the adoring blue eyes that looked up at her.

He leaned in closer, propping himself up against the aquarium glass with one hand while the other continued to rest lightly on her belly, its position not having moved from the night before. He came to an abrupt halt when their lips were only a few inches apart and breathed in her scent, deep sapphirine eyes beseeching her.

“O-Or you could just kiss me now,” she amended, “’cause who cares about the pain really and—”

She was cut off mid-sentence when his lips crashed down upon hers. Her lips parted at his tongue’s caress, and she eagerly let him slip inside her. Her hand instinctively came up to the back of his neck, holding him to her and increasing the depth of his penetration.

He moaned in ecstatic delight when her tongue enthusiastically joined his, his hand rubbing gently over the slight swell of her stomach. He could _feel_ it for certain this time; there was no compulsion driving her to do this, nothing but her own desire…for him, for his kiss…

They finally pulled apart with a gasp, Buffy breathing heavily. An eternal paradox struck her then as she forced air back into her lungs: _Oxygen good; Spike pretty._

“Enjoyed our taste ‘f the Big Bad?” Spike teased lightly, his snark returning as the moment of complete vulnerability passed.

She gave him an annoyed look and gestured for him to get up off of her. “Full of ourselves much?” she retorted, sighing in relief as the persistent weight was lifted from her chest and she could finally escape the uncomfortable curve of the aquarium window.

“Seems to me that _you_ were fulla _me_ ,” he countered with that irascible smirk that just made her want to kiss him senseless.

She went with the impulse, catching his face between her hands and plundering his lips hard for a few seconds, nibbling roughly on that full lower lip before she released him.

A dreamy, glazed-over look filled his eyes, and he wobbled slightly as if slightly dizzy from the bruising intensity of her lips.

“Heh,” she chuckled in triumph, “who ever knew the Big Bad was so easy to defeat?” She smoothed her skirt down over her thighs in a desperate effort to make herself look even remotely presentable. Her panties seemed to have disappeared entirely, and her blouse… She held up the two torn edges of the fabric with a sigh.

Spike seemed to come to at that, one eyebrow quirking in her direction. “Not the only one who’s let myself go soft,” he countered, eyeing her stomach skeptically. “You on that all chocolate diet again?”

Buffy glanced down and, sure enough, her tummy was rounded now. Although the curve protruded only about two inches, the change was definitely noticeable. And recent. “When they said mystic pregnancy, I didn’t think it’d be _this_ fast!” she exclaimed aloud, rubbing over the bulge uncomfortably. Dammit, she’d forgotten all about the unintended side effects of screwing Spike silly last night.

“P-Pregnancy?” Spike’s eyes widened with some residual male human fear at the word.

Buffy groaned. “That was what I came here last night to tell you,” she began nervously, cheeks flushing horribly. She felt a pang of fear deep in her gut. God, even if he wanted her, what were the odds that he wanted _this_? Could she manage it, being a single mother, knowing he’d abandoned her and—?

 _Relax_ , her rational mind instructed. _You’re only a quarter pregnant…or, actually, it’s probably half pregnant now, isn’t it? And given the way you slutbomb every time you’re in the same room as him, it’ll probably be more than that soon…_ A pause for contemplation. _Okay, go ahead and start worrying again_ , her mind amended.

“Actually,” she began babbling nervously, “Giles advised that I just go home and keep myself locked up, but then he would’ve had to tell you, and I kinda had to explain to you first why I told _him_ , and then it still seemed like it would’ve been better coming from my mouth so—”

“ _What_ ‘s comin’ from your mouth exactly, Slayer?” Spike demanded in irritation.

Buffy gulped and posed the question: “Have you ever thought about becoming a father?”

* * *

One hour later as she was trudging home, despair overcame Buffy at her present circumstances. God, she should have known that telling him was a mistake, that—

“And to think that outta all the vamps you know – including the Great Gelled Jerk himself, mind you – that you wanted good ol’ Spike to give it to you,” Spike continued to babble on excitedly as he walked beside her.

—Spike, under no circumstances, needed the additional ego booster of discovering that the Slayer had chosen him to be the father of her baby, she completed the thought. God, she’d had to suffer through non-stop bragging ever since he’d found out.

“Think the brat’ll be a bloke? End up right handsome like his old man. Always wanted a son back when I was human – boys were the heirs back in those days, y’know,” he ranted on, the same giddy glee that had been in his voice ever since he’d found out that Buffy was carrying his child. Child with no pretentious ‘E’ stuck on at the end of the word, that is. “’m thinkin’ a girl might be less of a handful, though,” he went on before casting a lascivious smirk in her direction. “Although mum’s certainly a handful, isn’t she?”

Buffy squealed when one of Spike’s hands managed to sneak around behind her and slip forward long enough to give one of her breasts a playful squeeze. “Stop it,” she chided half-heartedly, batting at him ineffectively. “A-And don’t call our kid a ‘brat’. And, for all we know, it could turn out to be some squidy-demon thing. A-And if Giles’ plan works, I’ll be locked safely away and there won’t even be a kid,” she announced in quick triumph.

Spike chuckled, and he stepped in front of Buffy, cutting her off. He watched her _entire_ body flush from the roots of her hair down to where she’d tied the front of her shirt together in a knot to keep from flashing the entire world. His tongue curled up beneath his teeth in response, imagining just what it could do to those ripe, firm breasts. Her pulse quickened as his forearms came up to rest on her shoulders, effectively trapping her in a loose embrace. Already his cock was stirring to life again at the delicious smell of her arousal.

“First off,” he ticked off her points on his fingers, “kid’s bound to be a brat if he takes after mum in the slightest.”

She gasped in outrage, and he nibbled lightly at the pouty lower lip in response, effectively transforming her protest into a needy moan.

“Second,” he added with a little swagger, “with such a handsome da as yours truly, no way we’re going to get ourselves a ‘squidy-demon thing’. Unless there’s somethin’ on his mum’s side of the family I should know about…”

The silencing kiss was accompanied this time by a deft, clever hand that managed to find its way all the way up her skirt and gave her clit a neat, sharp twist.

“And third,” he concluded, letting the panting, gasping Buffy collapse against his chest and holding her tight against him, “Watcher can lock you up in whatever chains he can find. Not gonna be able to stop you from gettin’ your vamp fix. The way you want me, ‘ve got no doubt you’ll break your way outta any prison to give your Spike a good, hard lovin’.”

She rolled her eyes. Mistake number two of the day: Informing a (briefly) distraught Spike that, no, the reason they’d kept having sex hadn’t solely been because of Gigantic thingy and that she’d wanted him all along, craved him. And it had _definitely_ been idiotic of her to reassure him by using the five-plus-hours-with-vibrator-after-seeing-half-naked-Spike incident as her example. This confession was solely responsible for the fact that it had taken them an extra hour to leave the aquarium, and only her insistence that the place was about to open because of the ever-approaching sun prevented Kink-Fest 2 from occurring right on the spot.

“Two words,” she turned to Spike with an expression of amused exasperation. “Ego. Much?”

“Not enough,” he retorted cockily, catching hold of her wrist and guiding it to the front of his too-tight jeans. “Better stroke it for me…”

She moved to roll her eyes before a wicked smile crossed her face. Slowly, her hand began rubbing over his already painful erection, causing him to jerk in his jeans. “That enough yet?” she taunted him, watching his eyes roll back and his mouth open in a silent gasp with more than a little feminine satisfaction.

“Buffy…” he whimpered, collapsing against her shoulder, his knees weakening as arousal fully overtook him.

“Look who put the Big Bad right in his place,” she teased, desire beginning to stir within her own body as well.

He growled in response but couldn’t find the brain-cells to make a snarky comeback. His nostrils flared, catching the first scent of her arousal…and something more. _It’s happening again…_ The thought barely flitted through his mind when suddenly a skull-shattering blow struck him from behind, darkening his world to black.

Buffy whimpered at his loss, her eyes glowing green with the heat of the mating drive once more. The sudden absence of her vampire lover’s embrace was like a deep, fresh cut, stinging her and causing her eyes to tear up. She looked up to see what had knocked Spike out and…

The vampire before her was tall and broad-shouldered, obviously a powerful fighter. Most of the vampires in Sunnydale didn’t live past ten, and those that did usually had the common sense to keep away from the Slayer. This vampire felt old to her, though. The oldest she’d felt in years aside from the master that now lay at her feet. A vacant lust-filled glaze covered his eyes as he took a step toward her. His nostrils flared in the pre-dawn air and, with one hand at her waist, he caught her roughly to him.

Inwardly, Buffy wanted to scream. The idea that this monster was touching her was abhorrent, but the Slayer within was demanding the strongest mate she could find. Of its own volition, her body wrapped around his, purring softly against him as his tongue came out to lathe a path down the side of her throat.

“Mine,” the new vamp growled against her, pushing her back onto a nearby bench as he crawled atop her.

Lost in her desperate desire, Buffy ground up against him, spreading her thighs wide and…

Again her would-be lover was yanked from her.

She sat up, nerves between her legs tingling with delight as she watched a recovered Spike throw the new vamp across the lawn. Big-and-brawny vamp rose almost immediately, fangs extending and forehead ridges rippling into existence. Spike shifted into game-face himself at that, bearing his own long, sharp fangs for her perusal.

A thrill shot through her body as she watched the two vampires circle each other, vying off for the honor of mating with her. Fangs snapped and fists flew with the first clash, and Buffy saw a trail of blood run down Spike’s arm where the other vampire had clawed him. Big-and-brawny was no better off, his ear and cheek bleeding copiously from the razor tips of Spike’s fangs.

The two demons growled, each scenting the air with their power, before rushing at each other once more. This conflict was long, drawn-out, and bloody. Cuts and gashes appeared in pale, smooth flesh, violent blows were exchanged, and the two wrestled frantically across the dew-wetted grass, each fighting for dominance.

Having two such powerful males fight over her had Buffy’s entire body tingling in anticipation. The rational part wanted nothing more than to help Spike vanquish this intruder, but the mating drive held her back, making Spike earn the right to father her child. The brutal animalistic nature of the fight and her willing submission to the victor just had her getting wetter by the minute.

Spike was trapped beneath his foe now, held down by the other vampire’s superior weight. Big-and-brawny growled out in what he thought was triumph, only to have the sound cut off with a squeak when Spike’s clawed hands caught him tightly around the throat, constricting with all his strength. Big-and-brawny’s eyes widened for a second in panic before Spike savagely ripped his head clean off. The other vampire fractured into a cloud of dust, leaving Spike alone to rise to his feet, predatory eyes narrowed in on where Buffy still lay back on the bench wantonly.

“ _Mine_!” The other vampire’s claim had been a growl; Spike’s was an outright roar. He towered over her and yanked her up so that his lips could roughly plunder hers.

Buffy whimpered in delight, hands snaking down to his rock-hard erection to show her pleasure in him.

A deep rumbling resonated throughout his body at that, and his hand rested on the top of his head, pushing her down hard to her knees before him. “Mine,” he repeated vehemently.

Buffy blinked at the hard bulge before her face and quickly moved to unzip his jeans, taking his pulsing purple cock out for her inspection. “Yours,” she agreed, looking up at him with demur eyes before her tongue flicked out to lick up the precum that had gathered at his angry head.

The growl in his chest deepened, and he thrust hard against her lips.

She took his hint and wrapped her hot mouth around his thick shaft, slurping and licking at every pulsing vein she could find. He let her play with him for about a minute before his hands came to rest on either side of her head, holding her in place as he rammed himself hard, deep down her throat.

Buffy gagged when he pushed past the back of her throat, but then he did it again and again, and she quickly learned to fight down the reflex. Her cheeks sucked in around him, and her tongue explored every inch of him it could find as he fucked her face.

Spike’s balls clenched in rapture at the warm, wet, willing mouth that took him in all the way to the hilt. Thrusting as deep within her as he could, he shot his cum down her throat, marking her as his and only his.

Buffy drank him down eagerly, hands kneading the tight muscles of his ass, her pussy aching in anticipation of that long, thick cock taking her again. After he came, he began to soften slightly, but she quickly licked him back to full erection, looking up at him with pleading, glowing eyes.

Spike felt his mind return after he came. The sudden realization of what he had forced Buffy to do fogged his conscience, and he looked down at her apologetically. “’m sorry, luv, I—”

“More,” she moaned, cutting him off.

The moment of clear-headedness passed, and he was instantly overcome by animalistic lust for her once more. “Think you can take it, Slayer?” his cool breath whispered against her cheek as he yanked her back up to him.

“Give it to me,” she begged, rubbing her wet pussy against his cock. “Give it to me hard…”

He held her flush up against his hard body for an instant before spinning her around in his arms.

“Spike?” she ventured hesitantly.

“Bend over, and hold on tight,” he instructed in a gruff voice, yanking her skirt up and exposing the smooth globes of her ass.

Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, resting her hands on the back of the bench before her and rubbing back against him insistently. The fire within her was burning so badly now, and she absolutely needed to have him inside her right now or she would die.

He didn’t disappoint. “Wet all over for me, aren’t you, luv?” he growled, sliding his rock-hard erection against her slit and coating it with her juices.

“Yes, Spike,” she agreed, eyes squeezed shut tight in eager anticipation. “All for you, baby.”

“My hot little Slayer,” he agreed, reaching around her and cupping her breasts with his hands, squeezing her better than any push-up bra as he lined himself up with her slick cunt. “You like it when I tease your sweet titties?” A powerful thrust and he rammed himself home, all the way up to the hilt. “You like being fucked from behind by a demon?”

“Yesss…” she cried out in delight, rocking her ass back against him to increase the power of his thrusts. She felt the sweat bead on her forehead at the heat of her body, the salty water dripping down the sides of her face and dangling at the tip of her nose for a few seconds before the violent mating of their bodies shook it down to the ground. God, she normally didn’t get off on things like this, but the dirty way he was talking had her wetter than she’d ever been in her life. “Harder,” she demanded.

His hands moved down to her hips at that, black-polished nails digging deep into her supple flesh as he pounded her tight passage for all it was worth. Her requests for “harder” turned more and more into heady moans, and he pierced her furiously trying to meet her requests.

Finally, with an animalistic roar, he lifted her clear off the ground, leaving her cunt to take the full brunt of his bruising force.

Buffy gasped and clutched on tight to the violently rocking bench before her, feeling sparks of pleasure alternating with the sweetest pain she’d ever felt. “You hurt me so good!” she gasped out before she lost all facility for coherent speech. Her eyes glowed a deep green that quickly spread out to encompass her entire body, the energy swirling right into her womb.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Spike cried out his repeated mantra as the world came crashing down around him. He felt his balls clench up so that it was unbearable, and then those Slayer muscles squeezed him hard, and he spurted his seed into her, her own orgasm pumping every bit of cum out of him that she could get. In that final moment, the same green glow took over Spike’s eyes before the energy drained back into her body once more, leaving him completely spent.

With a final gasp, Spike set her feet back down on the ground and pulled back out of her body, collapsing to his knees at the power of the orgasm he’d just experienced.

Buffy slid to the ground beside him, releasing the bench just as the wood and metal finally collapsed from the pounding it had taken. Her head came to rest on her shoulder as she panted desperately for breath. “Wow…that was…wow.”

“Best lay of my unlife,” Spike growled his agreement, slipping one arm around her shoulders while his other hand came to rest on the growing swell of her belly.

They both noticed the change immediately and looked down to see her stomach expand until her belly was round and full.

“Looks like junior’s almost ready to come out and play,” Spike chuckled lightly against her hair.

Buffy couldn’t help but smile against her throat. It was an ephemeral feeling, but she could almost sense the budding life within her womb. “Maybe we’ll give junior a shot, after all,” she conceded, suddenly overcome with an intangible love for her demon offspring. “But only under one condition.”

He purred against her hair. “Mmm…whasat?”

“It’s almost dawn,” she chided, “and there’s no way I’m letting daddy turn to dust.”

He gave her a delighted, dimpled smile at her concern for him, and together they supported each other on shaky legs as they walked the final few blocks to her house.


	4. Spike versus the Orgy: The Final Showdown

“I’ve got it!” A flurry of yellow and red plaid, and Spike was tackled to the floor with a cry of shocked indignation. “Quick, Buffy’s all horny! Someone restrain her!”

Buffy blinked down in stunned surprise at where Spike had been pinned to the floor just instants after walking into her house.

Willow frowned and eyed Buffy skeptically. “She doesn’t look horny to me,” she commented thoughtfully. “She looks normal.” She turned to Tara beside her. “Does she look horny to you?”

Tara blushed. “W-Well, aside from the…um…” She gestured vaguely in the direction of Buffy’s swollen belly.

In the meantime, the struggle on the floor had escalated. “Bloody hell, Harris! Stop feelin’ me up like a perv.”

“Gah!” Xander exclaimed in horror, immediately retracting his hands from Spike’s body and holding them up before himself defensively.

Anya slumped in response. “No,” she pleaded, popping another handful of popcorn into her mouth, “please continue to feel him up. And feel free to remove any and all clothing items. Or use props!” she added excitedly.

“Ahn, please,” Xander said, “I’m already traumatized from watching the Spike kissage. My eyes are in enough pain.”

Giles shoulders slumped, and he moved to clean his glasses at yet another sterling example of how he had basically become the chaperone to a bunch of preschoolers. “If we may return to the task at hand?” he suggested somewhat sarcastically.

“Yeah,” Xander agreed, “it’s someone else’s turn to hold down the Bleached Wonder.”

“Oh, you know this is your wet dream come true,” Spike taunted.

“Eep!” Xander let out an undignified little squeal and leapt up from the vampire. “Lies!” he insisted to the group at large, pointing an accusing finger in Spike’s direction.

With a saucy, triumphant smile, Spike rose to his feet. “Love you, too, Harris,” he taunted, blowing the other man a kiss.

Buffy swatted Spike in annoyance. “Play nice,” she instructed sternly.

He sulked but complied, resting one hand in the small of her back affectionately. “We’re just playin’ like we always do,” he assured her. “Innit that right, Harris?”

“My. Eyes,” Xander whimpered in response to seeing Spike’s hands on Buffy once more.

“See?” Spike said triumphantly. “Business as usual.”

Buffy merely rolled her eyes and gave his butt a quick pat.

A sound rather like a dying kitten emerged from Xander’s lips. “My. Eyes,” he repeated vehemently. “Why doesn’t anyone stop them and spare my poor eyes? That settles it: This mating thing is completely _evil_ …”

“Uh…” Buffy blushed, “we’re kinda not trapped in the whole ‘must breed now’ thing at the moment.”

Giles glanced at where the two of them were pressing close together and immediately removed his glasses for cleaning. “Good lord,” was all he could say. But, then, it usually was where Buffy and Spike were involved.

“So I’m right in thinking Buffy and Spike are going to have a baby, right?” an excited voice cut in from the stairwell.

“Dawn!” Buffy’s eyes bulged wide in horror, and she quickly took a step back away from her vampire lover. No _way_ was she trusting him to keep it PG while her sister was watching.

“Buffy is not having any baby,” Giles insisted vehemently, “and I explicitly instructed you and Joyce to remain upstairs in case—”

“Dawnie?” Joyce called down the stairs. “Are you down there?”

Dawn’s expression turned sheepish when Joyce came down the steps after her. “I just wanted something to drink,” she prevaricated on the spot. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, honest—”

But Joyce’s attention had turned from her youngest daughter to her oldest, surprise on her face at the sight of Buffy’s swollen belly. “Buffy, are you…pregnant?” she blinked in stunned amazement.

Buffy cast a nervous glance in Spike’s direction. “Er, um…kinda?” she whimpered nervously.

The entire Scooby Gang parted as Joyce approached her daughter, an indefinable expression on her face. She noted the quick exchange that had occurred between her daughter and the vampire and quickly arrived at the correct conclusion. “And Spike is the father?”

A gulping nod. “I-I didn’t mean—” Buffy began apologetically.

“Oh, honey, congratulations!” Joyce broke out into a wide smile and caught her daughter up in a bear hug.

Buffy blinked in surprise before relaxing into her mother’s hug. “You’re not mad?” she ventured hesitantly. “Disappointed?”

“About my first grandchild?” Joyce asked incredulously. She squeezed her daughter tight again so that she could whisper in her ear. “Good catch with the father, too.” She winked.

Buffy blushed. “Um, thanks, mom,” she agreed before hugging Joyce in turn. “Thanks so much for understanding!”

Beside the pair of women, Spike was blinking _really_ slowly. What exactly had caused these two crazy birds to go all weepy? He glanced around the room and noticed that all the other women were sniffling at the exchange as well. For an instant, his confused eyes met with Xander’s, both thinking the same thing: _I have NO clue…_

“Ahem.” Giles was trying to return some semblance of order once more. As usual, his plan was completely foiled.

“You.” Joyce’s expression turned from delighted to dangerous in one second as her eyes alighted on Spike. Instinctively, he gulped and took a step back. Joyce continued to stalk toward him, one finger planted accusingly in the center of his chest. “If you want to stay undusted,” she informed him coolly, “I am _going_ to see a ring on my daughter’s finger by the end of the week. And it’s going to be a _nice_ ring; none of this skull-ring nonsense.”

“Oi!” he protested. “Was as much her fault as mine! More, in fact, I—”

Joyce’s hardened expression didn’t waver. “One. Week,” she repeated firmly. “Or you’ll lose the necessary parts for this to _ever_ happen again.”

Spike’s eyes widened and he gulped before nodding his ascent vigorously. He knew better than to mess with any of the Summers’ women by now.

In sympathy to the threat issued, Xander and Giles both winced. _Mental note: Never ever piss Joyce off._

Then, abruptly and with no warning whatever, Joyce broke out into happy sobs once more and gave Spike an impulsive hug. The vampire froze stiff as a board in her arms as if terrified that her mood might suddenly shift again and she’d carry out her threat on the spot.

Anya frowned. “I always thought it was the pregnant woman who was supposed to act all irrational, not her mother…”

“Shh!” Xander, Giles, and Spike all insisted in unison, fearful of what Joyce’s next mood shift might be.

It was too late, however. Joyce turned on Giles with an angry scowl. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me my daughter was pregnant!” she snapped. “As her mother, I have every right to know—”

“Buffy is not pregnant,” Giles cut her off. “Unless she and Spike…” He paused and turned to look at his Slayer. “Shall I assume from the physical changes that there was another slip-up?” he dreaded to ask.

Buffy grimaced apologetically. “Kinda two slip-ups, actually…”

“ _Two_?!” Giles let out a very undignified and completely uncharacteristic squeak. He was confident not even cleaning his glasses would solve _this_ problem. Even if he did it a hundred times. A thousand…

“So Buffy and Spike only need to have sex once more!” Anya concluded perkily, completely unaware of the winces of the two men in the room.

“Mental images,” Xander shuddered. “Pain. Make it stop.”

“Oh, _grow up_ already, Harris,” Spike rolled his eyes, trying to slip an arm around Buffy’s waist so that he could suggest that they finish up junior right now. He pouted when she evaded the obvious booty-call.

“Buffy and Spike,” Giles interjected before things got entirely out of hand once more, “are doing no such thing. Our original plan was to keep the Slayer restrained throughout the duration of the _Tempus Gignentis_ , and I see no reason to alter that plan in any way.”

“Hey!” Spike protested, hand resting possessively over his child.

“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, “I’m already three-quarters pregnant. Not really seeing another way out of this…”

“If nothing further exacerbates the situation,” Giles looked pointedly at Spike, “the mystical energies within you will fade out upon your twenty-first birthday, making this entire mating season null and void.”

Spike turned panicked eyes in Buffy’s direction.

She squeezed his hand over her stomach in reassurance. “I _want_ to have Spike’s baby,” she announced.

A loud thump.

Anya sighed and walked over to the center of the room. “Can someone get me a glass of water?” she requested. “Xander’s just fainted again…”

* * *

Four days later, Buffy sat tied to a chair in the center of her room, eyes shooting daggers at Xander.

He squirmed. “I’m sorry,” he insisted for the thousandth time. “But the G-man says this is the only way to make sure that you’re actually in your right mind when you say…” He trailed off with a wince.

“That I want to have Spike’s baby?” Buffy retorted evilly.

A downright flinch of pain. “Stop saying that!” he protested. “My fragile mind can only take so much.”

Buffy let out a weary sigh and thumped her head back against the comfortable headrest. “C’mon, Xander,” she pleaded, “we’ve known each other for how long now? You’ve got to know I’m really me and not some crazed vamp sex fiend.”

Xander shifted nervously in his chair. “Giles said I can’t let you go until both of us decide you’re okay. Something about between the two of us you would spend your entire life in a convent, if I recall correctly.”

“ _Xander_ …” Buffy pleaded.

He sighed. “Okay, so maybe I buy that you’ve really got a thing for Spike,” he conceded. “But getting married? Having a baby? Isn’t that a little quick to be normal? Methinks mystic forces are at work.”

A soft smile curved the edges of Buffy’s lips. “Not quick,” she countered. “Do you have _any_ idea how long we’ve waited?”

Another uncomfortable fidget. “All right, so maybe I believe you,” he finally conceded reluctantly. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Untying me would be a nice start,” Buffy responded with a roll of her eyes…

* * *

“Oh, my poor sweet thing,” Joyce cooed, stroking Spike’s platinum hair affectionately. “Would you like more hot chocolate? Some blood? Anything, sweetie?”

“No thanks, mum.” Spike put on his most pathetic face and sniffed slightly for effect.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Joyce sighed, eyes tearing up. “Can’t we just let him go, Rupert? He and Buffy miss each other _so_ much…”

Giles rolled his eyes at the display before him.

“Yeah, _Rupert_ ,” Spike snickered. “How ‘bout givin’ a bloke a break?”

“Oh dear,” Giles sighed wearily, heading over to the kitchenette to pour himself yet another glass in hopes that intoxication might miraculously cause the vampire and his doting hen of a soon-to-be-stepmother to go away. The sweet release of alcohol was forbidden to him, however, as his door came crashing in.

“Buffy!” Xander exclaimed breathlessly. “Escaped! Help!” And, just for good measure, he collapsed on the floor again.

“Xander!” Joyce called out in alarm, rushing over to him.

“Wake up,” Giles agreed, fetching yet another glass of water and offering it to the distraught young man. “Tell us what happened,” he demanded once Xander began drinking.

“She was perfectly normal,” Xander insisted vehemently. “This isn’t my fault!”

“What isn’t your fault?” Giles demanded sternly.

“Sh-She was fine, so I just untied her for a minute so that she could use the bathroom,” Xander slightly amended the story so that he was less culpable. “And then her eyes started glowing all green, and she threw me across the room and leapt out the window. I couldn’t do a thing!”

“Relax,” Giles instructed. “It’s not an entire loss. In all likelihood, she’ll try to track down Spike, and since we have him here—” He gestured back to the chair the vampire was tied to.

Or, at least, the chair he had been tied to all of one minute before.

“Bugger!” Giles cried out at the sight of the ropes that had bound Spike all neatly ripped apart…

* * *

The urgency of her desire grew as the scents became more palpable. The fire within her burned so brightly now that she could feel it as a palpable pain in her belly. She paused for a second, stroking the swelling there affectionately and promising that she’d find the final seed it needed. In a final run, her quarry was in sight. A battered neon sign: _Willy’s_. Ah yes, soon she’d have all the mates she could possibly need…

Little did she know that as she approached the front door of the bar, another hunter entered through the back, nostrils flared from tracking down the scent of the breeding Slayer.

For one second, the two froze, bodies tingling with relief that they’d finally found each other once more, and then the dozen other vampires that happened to be in the bar were overcome by the scent of the Slayer’s pheromones, and chaos broke out.

Spike snarled and struggled fiercely, but there were too many. He would never get to his Slayer before another of the vamps had their poke. He would still fight like hell to try, though. Vamping out, his fangs sunk deep into the arm of one of the younger vampires, while his clawed hands raked across the faces of another two. The frenzy of the fight overcoming him, he managed to buck all the fledglings off, steeling himself up for the fierce battle he would need to win to make it all the way across the bar floor to where his love was buried in a pile of vampires. With a deep growl in his chest, he lunged…

Buffy fell under the weight of half a dozen young male vampires. The mating drive still had her under its spell, and she was practically weeping from not having a mate inside her right now…

Yet, something very odd happened. Despite having six potential mates atop her, every instinct in her body from her conscious mind to the Slayer’s wild drives rejected them all. Rather, her complete sexual focus was narrowed in on the powerful master fighting his way to her.

With a shriek of outrage, she threw the vamp that had been pawing her breast off of her, sending him crashing through a table at the far end of the room. Two vicious kicks and she’d freed herself from the jump-pile, pulling the stake out from the back of her belt.

Nine vampires now stood between her and Spike – her mate having already disposed of three – and her eyes narrowed at the obstacles to her bliss for a second before wood went flying. In, you know, the literal sense, not the really dirty (and painful) one.

Her Slayer’s instincts seemed to be at their greatest ever, and vamp and vamp dusted before her, each leading her a few feet closer to absolutely ecstasy. Finally, she stood amidst a swirling cloud of dust, scanning the room carefully for any remaining foes before she returned her full attention to where Spike fended off the last of the fledglings.

With a powerful roar, he ripped the vamp’s head clear off, and a little tingle ran straight down to her clit. She never tired of seeing him do that.

An angry growl, and Spike turned to face off against his next foe, only to be lifted up bodily by the lapels of his duster and thrown on his back right on top of the bar.

“Mine!” Buffy hissed, leaping up onto the counter as well and crawling sensuously up the length of his body until her face hovered right above his.

“Yours,” he whispered in agreement, eyes softening as his hand came up to stroke one lock of honey-blond hair.

“U-Uh, can you guys possibly take this elsewhere?” a nervous voice asked, crouched down on the floor behind the counter. “No offense or anything, but I think you’re about to violate every code of sanitation in the state.”

Twin vicious growls silenced the frightened bartender’s complaints.

“Or, hey, go right at it,” Willy amended hastily, shrinking back into the corner. “This place isn’t up to code, anyway…”

But Buffy and Spike had already forgotten about him. Buffy leaned down to nuzzle Spike’s throat affectionately, one hand running softly through his hair. He purred in response, nuzzling into her own shoulder and rubbing both palms over her rounded belly. Impossibly, Buffy returned his purr, one finger tracing the strong line of his jaw up to the razor’s edge of one cheekbone…

And the doors burst open again. Shocked silence for a second, and then:

“Aw…they’re so cute!” Tara insisted, watching the tender display between the two mates after their long forced separation.

Willow nodded with a soft smile.

Spike began thrusting his hips up vigorously against Buffy’s.

“Okay, getting with the less cute now,” Willow amended with a blush.

“We get to watch them, right?” Anya asked excitedly. “And, ooh! I need more popcorn!”

The sound of Giles cleaning his glasses sounded over Buffy and Spike’s purrs, and then: Thunk! Thunk! Twin tranquilizer darts hit both the Slayer and her Vampire, causing the blatant humping to come to an end as they both slipped into unconsciousness in each other’s arms. Everyone’s gaze turned to where Xander was holding the tranquilizer gun.

“Hey, the one thing I know for certain is that neither of them want their baby to be born in a dump like this,” he insisted defensively.

“Hey!” Willy protested, peeking up at them over the edge of the counter.

The entire gang scowled at him, and he ducked back under in shame.

“Let’s just get them home,” Giles said wearily, “and we’ll sort everything else out later…”

* * *

Buffy awoke with a whimper to realize that she was back in her room. Whatever rational mind she still possessed figured out that she’d been drugged and returned to this prison where there was no Spike and… She sniffed the air. Wait a minute…

She turned over to see the vampire of her dreams lying on the bed beside her, also just wakening fully from the tranquilizers. Their eyes met for a second before Buffy’s eyes glowed green again, and they met in a passionate kiss in the center.

Limbs twined gracefully, hands flitted over needy flesh, clothing was removed piece by piece and flung aside. Neither questioned the miracle of how, exactly, they’d remained together; they just savored the opportunity to enjoy this final consummation. Unlike before, this union wasn’t violent or desperate. They slid together slowly, sensuously, drawing out their lovemaking.

It wasn’t long before the mating drive finally overwhelmed Buffy, though, and she pushed Spike onto his back, mounting him quickly, and lining her slick passage up perfectly with his throbbing cock. For one instant, their eyes met, glowing green to vivid blue, and then she thrust All. The. Way. Down.

He gasped and thrusted up against her, feeling her heat flowing through him, warming his chill flesh. Buffy rode him slowly, savoring the cold and letting it bring relief to her feverish body. She felt a slow tingle building deep in her belly and watched in amazement as her flesh started to glow green, overcome by a pure light.

Spike gasped in awe at the phenomenon himself before noticing that his own body was beginning to glow as well. A shocked gasp escaped his lips before he was consumed fully by the light, and then…

It was like being inside pleasure. Their physical forms blended into one at the power that had transformed their bodies, and for one instant there was only one being, and it was in ecstasy.

And then, slowly, a darker green energy separated itself from the whole, causing a rift between the two halves of its parent being. The darker energy solidified with a flash, taking the form of a tiny infant. Only an instant later, its parents reformed on either side of it, completely drained from the effort of creating the new life they now held between them.

The baby, warm and loved, felt its eyes began to droop as well. After all, it had gone through even more of an effort than mom and dad’s in being born. One final yawn – and the quick extension of two tiny, needle-point fangs in the process – and the newest baby Summers fell asleep, snuggly wrapped in the embrace of her parents…


	5. Planned, Albeit Idiotic, Parenthood

Buffy awoke to the feeling of suckling on her breasts. Both of them. She opened her eyes to see the most beautiful baby girl in the world drinking nourishing milk from one nipple. A sense of all-encompassing awe came over her as she tenderly held the perfect little creature against her, fingers gently stroking the one lock of pale hair on the top of her daughter’s head.

Her daughter finished eating at that and looked up at her mother with big blue eyes. And Buffy fell in love with her on the spot. God, she had the same beautiful blue eyes Spike did, and it was hard to tell through the baby fat, but Buffy spotted a pair of high, sharp cheekbones that were also the father’s gift. Her nose, though, and the shape of her face, those were Buffy’s. And she realized suddenly that this beautiful little girl really was hers, a tiny little composition of herself and Spike. God, could anything in the universe be more perfect?

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” The rough British accent came through the flesh of her other breast where Spike’s tongue was still enjoying the softness of the milky mound.

“She’s wonderful,” Buffy agreed in a soft, amazed voice. She cradled her baby against her chest instinctively, and the tiny girl let out a soft purr in response. Buffy giggled. “She purrs!” she exclaimed in delight.

Spike purred back in response. “My girls,” he concluded, abandoning Buffy’s breast for the moment so that he could wrap his arms around his mate, sheltering her in the crook of his shoulder. “What’re we gonna name her?” he whispered softly into Buffy’s hair.

Buffy blinked at that. “You have any ideas?” she asked curiously.

“Always fancied the name Penelope…” he began thoughtfully.

“What kind of pee?” Buffy retorted with a roll of her eyes.

He sulked. “Fine. Whatta you want?”

“Joan,” Buffy said thoughtfully.

“Oh, c’mon, you can _not_ name a beautiful creature like that Joan!” he exclaimed.

Buffy’s lip stuck out in a pout. “Like you’ve got anything better,” she countered.

“How ‘bout Nancy?”

“You are _not_ naming her after some drugged-up punk!” Buffy denied vehemently. “What, were you going to name our first son Sid?!”

“’S better’n Joan,” Spike insisted.

Buffy’s eyes narrowed. “Anne,” she shot back.

Spike’s eyes widened for a second. “Was my mother’s name,” he admitted softly.

Buffy’s own features relaxed at that. “My middle name,” she added. “After my grandmother…”

“Anne?” Spike repeatedly slowly, the black polish on his nails looking both out of place and strangely _right_ as he stroked his daughter’s hair.

Anne giggled.

“Anne, it is,” Buffy agreed with a sigh of relief, settling back into Spike’s arms once more. His thumb began rubbing small circles into the bare flesh of her arm.

“You’re both so beautiful,” Spike whispered affectionately, pressing his lips lightly to her forehead.

Buffy sighed and closed her eyes. The gesture brought all too clearly to mind his admission their second time together, however. They hadn’t spoken of those three words he’d uttered in the heat of passion since, but now…

“You’re really annoying, you know that?” she began, cuddling up against him further.

He humphed in response.

“You’re obnoxious and rude and irritating and obnoxious and—”

“Said ‘obnoxious’ twice there, pet,” he cut her off with a little tongue waggle.

She rolled her eyes. “See what I mean?” she demanded. “You’re so annoying sometimes…but then you can be really sweet and tender, too…”

Spike’s eyes widened in horror. “’m _not_ —!” he began.

“…And I think I’m falling in love with you,” Buffy finished, not put off by his protest in the slightest.

Spike’s jaw shut with an audible snap, and he looked at her with the naked devotion he’d been trying to hide from her for so long. “I love you, Buffy,” he said slowly, voice sounding unusually shaky.

“I love you, too, Spike,” she assured him, one hand reaching up to cup his cheek.

He frowned. “Wait a minute,” he began, “din’t you just say—?”

“So I fell in love with you in the space of two seconds,” she retorted before her tone turned soft again. “It wasn’t hard, baby.”

He gulped and squeezed his eyes shut tight in pleasure for a second. “Say it again,” he pleaded.

She laughed. “I love you, Spike,” she repeated, placing a teasing peck of her lips right on the tip of his nose.

“My love…” he purred again, catching her lips as she tried to escape and pouring his passion out into them.

She moaned against his skilled tongue and let him inside, twining her tongue with his in an intricate dance as they both finally took the time necessary to fully explore the other’s mouth. Their lips lingered together, and oxygen was beginning to be an issue when they were interrupted by the sound of a little cry.

Buffy pulled back instantly and turned to her daughter, cradling her gently and offering her breast. Her actions did nothing to quiet the infant, however.

“Here,” Spike whispered, “let me try.”

Despite Anne’s distress, Buffy couldn’t help but smile at the astonished expression on Spike’s face when she first handed him his daughter. His startlingly blue eyes were wide with wonder as he held the tiny little body against his chest, embracing the infant with a delicacy that she almost couldn’t believe he possessed.

Anne quieted after a few seconds, and Spike stroked her back gently, cradling her against the crook of his neck. Another purr from the baby, and abruptly she bit into the side of her father’s neck, piercing his throat with her tiny little fangs.

“Whoa!” Buffy exclaimed in startled surprise, suddenly grateful that the child seemed to want Spike’s blood and hadn’t bit into her own sensitive flesh while she’d been suckling.

Spike froze for a second before his eyes teared up. “Did you see that?” he whispered to Buffy in disbelief. “My little girl went straight for daddy’s jugular!” he exclaimed in delight. Anne had retracted her fangs by now, and Spike held her up proudly before him. “Who’s daddy’s little girl?” he cooed, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Anne giggled again in response to that.

Buffy merely rolled her eyes. “God, you are _so_ weird,” she concluded, settling against her mate nonetheless.

He chuckled at that. “Like it when mommy bites me, too,” he countered with a little thrust of his hips against her.

“In front of the baby?” Buffy demanded incredulously. “Perv much?”

“Much,” he agreed with a little growl that had her entire body tingling.

Buffy gasped as his hand ventured between his thighs and…

 _Knock, knock, knock._ “You better not being having sex in there,” Dawn shouted through the door. “Mom’s coming up. Oh, and you might want to be decent, too. At least, as much as is physically possible,” she added sarcastically.

Buffy instantly scrambled for the nightshirt she’d left on her chair, slipping it over her head before turning annoyed eyes in Spike’s direction. “Decent up,” she instructed.

With a reluctant roll of his eyes, he pulled her comforter up over his naked, sexy limbs, exposing only a bit of his muscular chest.

“More decent,” she insisted, but then it was too late.

“Buffy?” Joyce knocked on the door. “Are you two all right in there?”

Anne let out a little squeal as if she recognized the sound of her grandmother’s voice.

A pause. “Was that a baby?” Joyce asked incredulously. “It’s already born?!” She opened the door, eyes wide when she saw her granddaughter for the first time. “Oh, how precious!” she exclaimed, entering the room and sitting beside the bed.

With a small smile, Spike held his daughter out to Joyce.

“A girl?” Joyce inquired, holding the baby close.

“We named her Anne,” Buffy agreed, squeezing Spike’s hand as she sat back down on the bed beside him. “There was this big magical thing last night and…well, poof! She was born.” Her hands made a little poofing gesture to demonstrate.

“No nine-months of waiting? No morning sickness? No mood swings, gorging, intensely painful labor?” Joyce blurted out incredulously.

Buffy merely shook her head and cuddled up in the crook of Spike’s arm.

Joyce’s eyes narrowed. “You do realize that every other mother in the world will seek their revenge against you now,” she half-teased.

Spike chuckled. “My girl hasta have some compensation after all the work that goes into bein’ the Slayer, doesn’t she?” he countered.

Joyce’s expression softened at that, and Anne giggled when Joyce’s finger tickled her stomach lightly. “She’s got your nose, Buffy,” she announced with grandmotherly pride, “and Spike’s eyes…”

“She’s got Spike’s fangs, too, so be careful,” Buffy warned.

Joyce blinked in surprise at that. “Does the little angel have fangs?” she cooed softly. It really was a strange household where such an announcement didn’t even seem out of the ordinary.

“Ahem.” Spike coughed very loudly and pointedly, an angry scowl on his features.

“What?” Joyce wondered before rolling her eyes in realization. “Not _that_ ‘Angel’,” she assured him. “I know full well that my granddaughter’s a little Spike.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as well and nibbled on Spike’s ear. “Remember: I chose you, not him,” she assured her lover fondly. “Could’ve made my way to LA if the vampire I wanted hadn’t been,” a nip to his earlobe, “right,” a twist, “here.” She tilted his head toward her and brushed a kiss over his lips.

He softened at that, nuzzling her affectionately and purring against her throat.

Anne purred in response, and Joyce let out a startled laugh. “Isn’t she just a darling?” she sighed, already deeply in love with the newest addition to her family.

Dawn peered in the doorway. “Is Spike naked?” she asked hopefully, before wide eyes alighted on her newborn niece.

Spike clutched the blanket to him tighter in response, and his cheeks managed to flush. His Nibblet was the only person in the world who knew how to make him blush, and she delighted in doing so as often as possible.

“Is that—?” Dawn breathed in surprise.

“Come meet Anne,” Joyce waved her over.

Spike buried himself fully into the blankets in response. All this gushy chick stuff just wasn’t for him. Or so he was trying to convince himself. Half of him was proud that everyone was so infatuated with his little girl. After all, didn’t she deserve to be treated like the princess she was?

“She has _fangs_?!” Dawn was exclaiming in surprise. “Wow, I wanna see!” She took Anne carefully and dangled out her finger, hoping to tempt the half-demon. “Heh, I can’t wait to see Giles freak over that. You should have seen him try to convince us to separate the two of you last night. He was all, ‘We cannot be certain that Buffy would really want this.’ And I’m all, ‘Uptight much? Everyone _knows_ she’s totally in love with Spike.’ It was funny to watch his face turn red when even Xander agreed.” Dawn chuckled. “Now, he’ll be all, ‘We must research this at once!’,” she affected a dopey British accent.

“Your accent’s atrocious, Bit,” Spike informed her, still buried beneath the covers.

“What turned _him_ into a six-year-old?” Dawn teased, watching the lump under the covers with a grin.

“We’re challenging his demonic masculinity with all the baby-talk,” Buffy informed her with a giggle, feeling around beneath the covers for Spike to pull him back out. Her eyes widened when she grabbed a portion of his anatomy she had _not_ intended to…

A chuckle and a purr from beneath the blanket.

Buffy’s face flushed a deep red, although whether from embarrassment or arousal, not even _she_ was sure.

“Oh dear,” Joyce chided her lightly, “you look tired. Perhaps we should leave you to rest.”

“An excellent idea,” Spike agreed, popping his head back out from under the blankets.

“I think Anya suspected Anne might be showing up today,” Dawn commented, still trying to get her niece to show her fangs. “She went on this complete shopping spree – carriers, crib, clothes, you name it. She said you can reimburse her for all the money she spent.”

“Uh…thanks,” Buffy said hesitantly, “I think…”

Dawn winked conspiratorially. “I’ll just take Anne with me while you guys ‘rest’, and we can get her all properly bundled up.” She leaned in to press a kiss to her sister’s cheek. “Oh, and go you for finally picking a guy with a cute butt.” She ruffled Spike’s hair for good measure before leaving the bedroom.

Spike’s cheeks flamed, and he buried his face in Buffy’s shoulder.

“Yes, you just rest up, honey,” Joyce insisted, oblivious to what the pair _really_ had planned. “Both of you.” She gave Buffy a quick hug. “I love you. And you…” She turned to Spike and hugged him as well. “Thank you for my beautiful granddaughter.”

Awkwardly, Spike relaxed and patted her on the back as well.

Joyce got up to walk away before stopping in the doorway to fix Spike with a menacing look. “And don’t forget: you’ve only got three days left to legitimize my granddaughter,” she warned. She made a nasty snipping motion, and then shut the door behind her, leaving the two lovers alone.

“B-Buffy?” Spike began anxiously. “Will you—?”

“You need a ring,” she reminded him, giggling slightly at how terrified he seemed to be of her mother. He’d never been very good at spotting when Joyce was kidding.

“But when I get one, you’ll say yes, right?” he demanded nervously.

“Gotta protect my favorite portion of your anatomy,” she agreed, pulling him down over her body for a kiss.

His mouth devoured hers eagerly, and he fully covered her body with his own, slipping easily between her spread thighs. “Think we can manage this on our own?” he teased, rubbing his erection erotically against her dripping slit.

“Don’t see why the stupid mating drive thought we needed any help in the first place,” she agreed, pulling him down for another kiss. Her legs slid around his waist, inviting him to come inside. They would have plenty of time – all their lives – for foreplay later. Right now, she just needed to feel him deep within her of his own free will…

A roll of his hips and a powerful surge, and he was inside. They each moaned, breaking away from their kiss. Slowly, eyes locked the entire time, they began to move together, rocking gently, drawing their lovemaking out.

“Love you,” Buffy gasped, twining her fingers with his as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time.

“Love you,” he agreed with a shuddering gasp, beginning to press deeper inside now, burying himself all the way to the hilt.

“D-Don’t ever stop driving me crazy,” she requested with a small smile, pulling him down to her and holding him tight as if she wanted to take all of him into her body.

“Never,” he swore with a grin of his own. “Think we’ll make another?” he asked curiously.

“Not yet,” she whispered against his cheek. “Hafta wait a few more years.”

He pouted. “‘Few years’? That’s kinda vague…”

“Yeah,” she agreed apologetically, “but I still love you…”

“Then, ‘ll just hafta make love to you Every. Night,” he empathized the two words with his deepest thrusts yet, “to make sure…”

And “Yes!” was the only response Buffy could give.


End file.
